A Pound of Flesh
by balletboots
Summary: Hermione Granger- she brought the light back into his otherwise cold, dark existence. He would kill her with his bare hands before he lost her to another, especially one of his own followers. She was his everything, even if she didn't quite know it. Even if it meant a pound of flesh, Tom Riddle cared not the price. He never would. She was is, always. TimeTravel/Dark Lord/Lemons
1. Accordingly

**2014**

"It's ridiculous." The red-headed boy shook his head, the auburn shaggy locks flying in all directions at a brisk pace. "Harry? Ginny? Mum?" Ron turned to everyone in Dumbledore's office. We sat in the home of a thousand artifacts, all at least a hundred years old. It felt like a sanctuary once you passed the moving Gargoyles that guarded the place. Under my Gryffindor crested robes, I relaxed in my striped pajama set. It was not yet an hour before midnight when Ginny Weasley abruptly shook me from my slumber. Along side Ginerva was Harry Potter, who looked both antsy and dreadful. When I arrived at the meeting, Ronald a few minutes late, I was automatically hit with the feeling that everyone knew something I didn't. Much of the Order had shown up that night, making his office seem a little smaller than it actually was.

Harry Potter, in all of his glory, stood towards the back with Ginny right beside him with their hands interlocked. "Hermione is brave, and it's ultimately her decision if what Professor Dumbledore has said is ridiculous or not." He shrugged, his glance lingering on my face longer than it ever did before. Ginny nodded in agreement to Harry's words, going against what her brother thought was clear as day.

The Order of the Phoenix was compiled of great, brave witches and wizards. I felt the eyes of Lupin, Tonks, and Moody on me at that particular moment. In my opinion, they were the bravest- but where intellectual power was needed, people like Molly Weasley, Professor Snape, and Professor McGonagall were prominent. So why was I, Hermione Granger, the chosen child to complete Dumbledore's task? I was a muggleborn, thrust into the world of magic six short years before. "I understand your worries, Mr. Weasley, _fully_." Dumbledore stood from his high throne and leaned forwards, toward us with his fingers splayed in front of him, supporting his leaning body. "This is not a whimsical plan, I assure all of you. It has taken deep consideration, and I've finally decided that Miss Granger is completely qualified and the best suited to do this." The mission was simply deemed 'time travel'.

"Professor, correct me if I'm wrong, but are you asking me to travel back in time?" My eyebrows knitted together. Everyone knew time-traveling was dangerous. One wrong move and the whole future could end up in a more horrible catastrophe than it was currently. Not that the world could get a whole lot worse, though; Voldemort had control of the German and Norwegian Ministries, and with Britain at war currently none of us had homes. America was littered with dead bodies, Canada's borders were officially shut off for the next two years, and Scotland was the last place on Earth safe for us.

"On behalf of the Order and the Light side, I am requesting your assistance in righting this wrong that has fallen unto the Wizardry world. You could very well be the answer to all of our problems; you have the potential to be the solution." Dumbledore's words struck a chord within me… I was smart and foolishly brave, but _this_?_ Time travel? _Was I really capable of reshaping the world as we knew it? I nodded, having been pulled in by his twinkling eyes. His half moon glasses were gone, only to be replaced by an onset of defined wrinkles.

"Why must it be Hermione? Why _must _the traveler be a girl?" Charlie Weasley questioned bluntly, his earring shining in the soft glow of the candles.

"As I have mentioned, Miss Granger is both intelligent and has proven to be worthy of honor, earning full qualification for this assignment. As for the gender part, well…" Dumbledore looked down at his desk and then back to us, "I believe everyone knows that I was a professor here at Hogwarts when Tom Riddle began his first year at twelve years old, just a tad bit over the qualifying age. But that little information made all the difference. He was always a year ahead in his thoughts, his school management, and…his affection. As a Transfiguration professor, I never made it a priority to know every student's private life, but Mr. Riddle's was always much too private for the Headmaster at the time's liking. Headmaster Dippet kept a special lookout for Tom Riddle. His study proved that few girls ever caught Riddle's attention, and they were never ventures that lasted."

I shuddered at the thought of girls swooning at Voldemort's sight. Who in their right mind could not sense pure evil from that beast- even when he was part man? "You want Hermione to seduce him then?" Ron's voice cut into the silence that, in fact, was filled with all of our unspoken thoughts. Riddle's description seemed like an average Seventh year boy, enveloped in his schoolwork and spending some time snogging- not an evil madman hell bent on ruining the world.

I winced at his vulgar words. "No, Mr. Weasley, I merely foresee that Miss Granger will better connect with the young Tom Riddle in the event that she is a female." Mrs. Weasley and Tonks nodded, as if they knew exactly what Dumbledore was saying. Ron still shook his head, muttering profanities in a whisper. "I am going to send you with a letter that you are to hand deliver to the 1940's version of myself, but only once you have received a certain trinket from Tom Riddle. I cannot elaborate on what this trinket will be and neither can you allow your true identity to be revealed to myself before such a thing happens."

Molly Weasley cleared her throat and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear, "How long will sweet Hermione have?" she looked over at me with a dear smile. I noticed her rain boots still dripping, and her casual clothes extra starched. Molly was a woman that took care of her family, and all of the friends that came along with it. Harry and I were some of them- _"the best of them!"_ as she once put it. To know Molly Weasley was to know a real woman, a real mother, a real saint.

"There is no timeframe. Up until he splits his soul- that is when you must take action." He looked directly at me. "Putting you into the past, adding your name to the seventh year Class of 1944, the next meal you choose- it all affects the future, Miss Granger. One wrong move and your future will be forever muddled. Also, the letter to myself will have the necessary requirements to send you back here to your appropriate time."

"And what do you mean by _muddled_?" I questioned my fear. Could I truly erase myself from existence in some way? It was so morbidly fascinating to consider.

He sighed and sat back down whilst his hand stroked his long, grey beard thoughtfully. "Once I cast the spell on you, your body will leave to 1944 almost like apparition, just to another time. Even though we are using time travel to fix our… problem, I could _not _do the same to another problem if something goes amiss in your mission. This spell can only be cast once-"

"Because if I die or cause the death of another that I wasn't supposed to, you putting me back in time would have never happened." I filled in the blanks, my mind clearing up the fog that settled when Ron began doubting Dumbledore's plans. Dumbledore proudly smiled and nodded. "Will I have any allies? Anyone to turn to?" I asked worriedly. "Who am I to trust?"

Dumbledore nodded. "Yes indeed, Miss Granger, you are spot on as per usual. It should be no problem avoiding your grandparents, or any other relatives in that time seeing as they are both muggles. But, as I have stated before, I have full belief in you." Professor McGonagall quietly agreed, while other murmurs of approval filled the room. "As for an ally, I have prepared a certain student for your sudden appearance. Her name is Lavinia Brocklehurst, and she was by far the smartest witch of her time. Also one of the few star pupils of that time to be void of any allegiances to Tom Riddle." He swallowed throatily before looking at with grave orbs of an old blue. "She will know of your situation, but she will not be able to tell another soul; I promise, that when the time is right, and only then, Miss Brocklehurst will approach you and become your greatest ally. As far as trusting… I advise you to trust no one. Think of this as a solitary mission- no one is what they seem, and it may be startling at first."

I summoned the strength to think it over, but my thoughts automatically went somewhere else… somewhere dark. I knew all about realizing people weren't what they seemed to be.

**Three Months Before-**

"_Have you no morals?" I screeched at Ron, deflecting an onslaught of hexes. The Death Eaters were gaining in closer on us. It was Ron's bright idea to infiltrate the Death Eater post in Moscow, where I promised myself I would never go. Draco Malfoy controlled everything that went in and out of that camp; he ran it like a ship- always constant, clean, and completely under his control. I knew he was too risky to fight with, or overthrow for that matter. Like Ron, I wanted to absolutely crush Malfoy and all of his followers, to avenge our lives of misery at Hogwarts and our few first months as Auror Trainees in the War. Now, almost every member of Dumbledore's Army and The Order were fully qualified Aurors. "We can't do this!" I screeched at him, huddling behind the large Oak tree for protection. He dodged out from behind his bush and threw dozens of curses._

_The differences between Ron and I were many, mostly being our patience levels. Harry and Snape journeyed off to catch a lead on another Horcruxe, leaving Ron to think he could whatever he pleased while they were away. Dumbledore didn't quite agree with Ronald's "brilliant" plan, but since Ron was an appointed General, there wasn't much arguing when he had already convinced the others that this would work. But at the moment where he and I were backed into a small cove, the others having attacked the busy capital from different angles, I hated Ronald for having no sense when he needed it most._

_There was another major difference. I would never use an Unforgivable curse. I blocked out the rest of his mantra and left the comfort of the trees. That was the fourth time he used that curse in the last hour. How many did he want to kill with that horrible curse? We were here to capture and imprison, not murder!_

_I aimed my wand and shouted a little-known curse that caused your clothing to incinerate and cause the victim feel as if they were burning alive, also- a hallucinogen tenfold. I lifted my wand and cast it again on the same group, this time flicking my wrist a little harder for a greater effect. "Flamme Aturo!" I did the same to another cluster. This curse lasted awhile, and it eventually paralyzed the brain of its victim for a few days. Due to the lack of serious side-affects and very few fatalities, it was a legal curse. That was another difference between him and me. I took time to cast legal, effective spells rather than rambling off mindless curses that came with a life-sentence to Azkaban. I hated Ron for that. _

_"There!" I saw him point to a group of flying broomsticks that emitted golden smoke, signally the approach of Azkaban officers and the Ministries lackeys. Leaving this mess to them, we dodged the trees and undergrowth of the shadowy north part of Moscow. It was snowing heavily and the trees, including bushes and flower stems, were bare as the night._

_Of what I could still remember all of those months ago, I faintly recall Ronald taking my hand and pulling me into a warehouse-type building. Everything looked and smelled bran new. "Keep quiet-" He didn't finish his sentence before a swift paralyzing curse was placed unto him. I squealed like a bleeding pig and shot into the dark._

"_Granger, please." Draco Malfoy's voice cut into the air. I heard his footsteps near my hiding place and struggled to keep my panting silent. Easy breathing was gone. I was an unsuspecting victim when he bent down and yanked me to a standing position by my hair. _

_"Poor Weasley always had a big mouth." He shrugged nonchalantly and took me with him to a rather large room, with no windows and paper scattered everywhere. "Your little weasel boyfriend thought it smart to ravage all of my belongings first. How stupid! All he did was give my men time to prepare." Malfoy chuckled and tossed me carelessly on a seat. For good measure, he snatched the wand from my hand and ordered a nonverbal spell to lock the door. He turned his back to me and began going through paper, grabbing some and stuffing them in his expensive carry on._

"_What are you doing?" I eyed him critically. He captured me, and only took me to his office a hallway away from my petrified boyfriend, that would be waking in the next hour? It didn't make sense. "You're not going to kill me." It was more of a statement rather than a question. "You could have done that instead of petrifying Ron. You could have done a lot worse things to him than-"_

"_Are you trying to __**encourage **__me?" He sneered and stuffed a few articles from the table into his bag. "I'm collecting important things from my former office. I give those Ministry goons fifteen minutes to locate this spot and move in. All I can tell you is that Weasel has some things to do before a Death Eater finally kills him. Imagine if I had been just another Eater- I would have killed your little boyfriend, given you just enough time to slip away." He rolled his eyes at the prospect. "All a prophecy, Granger. I'm not supposed to kill you. Not this way, not this time, not __**me**__. In the higher power that believes in an end to this war, I don't believe I am suppose to murder you or that Weasley." I didn't buy his act, but I didn't question him any further. I merely allowed him to keep packing. "Count this as my paying you back for saving my life in fifth year against that nasty Centaur attack. If we cross paths again, I will only assume that it is my destiny to kill you, and so I will." He approached me and lifted me up by my hand; soft, like a gentleman's touch. I was caught in the moment and walked out into the hall. _

_He thrust my wand into my hands and kicked Ron for good measure. I was going to pull out my wand in a stance, when he flicked his wand and caused both of my arms to feel like lead, dropping my wand to the hard, linoleum floor. "Goodbye, Granger. I do hope, for your life, that we never see each other again."_

I snapped back to the present time and stood from where I sat. "I will do it, Dumbledore. I will travel back in time to halt Riddle's madness and his 'decontamination' of my kind." He nodded, almost having had expected my compliance. "I will do everything in my power to make sure Voldemort stays human as long as possible. And I will make it back here to you all." I forced a tight-lipped smile on my lips as I looked around the room and then settled on Ronald. He didn't know me anymore, and I sure as hell didn't know him. This world was quickly going to hell- I could be the solution to all of our troubles, whatever that meant.


	2. With A Lie

**1944**

I walked down the hall with books held tightly to my chest, careful to be aware of my surroundings whilst maintaining a carefree, young woman's nonchalance at her grammar school. It wasn't easy when I was a time-traveling, confused little girl with no true ally in this time. Professor Dumbledore would understand me once I passed him the letter, but I was not able to do that until I received a certain _trinket _from Tom Riddle… the monster, the lunatic, the evil git himself. How in the world was I supposed to act like I even wanted his attention, anyway? He was a horrible, vile person that so closely resembled a reptile that it freaked me out every single time I saw him up-close; it was allegedly suppose to signify his ties to me, as Dumbledore prophesized. But I wasn't much in this life.

My back story was that I was a proper Lady Granger, closely connected to the pureblooded Brocklehurst family. Surprisingly enough, they were quite prominent in this time… from what I gathered in the mere days since arriving here, Mandy Brocklehurst's great grandmother was prom-queen-meets-the-Wizarding-world. Lavinia and I hadn't been up close and personal yet, but the way the girls spoke of her during shower times and lunch was enough. Albus swore on his magic that she was the smartest witch of her age and would approach me with an offer I couldn't refuse "when the time is right, and only then, Miss Granger". I inwardly rolled my eyes at Dumbledore's mystical, cryptic messages. I had to count on the fact that she would understand, she would just _know_.

For all the luck in the Wizarding world, the traffic in the hall was a standstill- and three very large, tall wizards stopped right before me. They were walking in the opposite direction, and probably wouldn't have noticed me had Emogen Abbott's pet frog _not _jumped from its cage and caused everyone to get caught in the body traffic. "Look here, the first half-blood girl to get sorted in Slytherin." I ignored the sneer in Hyatt Hollingway's voice, though it was not easy to steadily ignore it. I knew I would gain some bad reception due to my placement in Slytherin, and I had to lie about being a half-blood. Firstly, I would have been slaughtered if they knew I was a muggleborn. Secondly, keeping up the story of being a pureblood would have been far too difficult. There was so much I did not know regarding these times and their customs, I couldn't risk this mission with that huge of a lie. Thirdly, I decided that being halfblooded would help me gain the upper hand when it came to _connecting _with Voldemort.

I wanted to rudely point out his ignorance, for I was not the first (in _A History of Hogwarts_, it clearly states the first muggleborn, half-blood, and pureblood to ever be sorted in each House) but I refused to let him get under my skin. I idly reminded myself that his bloodline would die out with him, so I didn't let it bother me. He was going to die a very lonely, old man. My eyes were everywhere but his- those three were a sort of clique around school. Riddle, Hollingway, and Malfoy were household names around these sorts. Riddle and I shared only three out of six main classes, but he was always untouchable when he walked in. It was like he was sent here from some other world and everyone around him knew it- he was like a God to them, so high above their measly being and yet so dark, that he was unattainable.

My avoidance only fueled Hollingway's anger, for in the next moment he shoved me into the couple a few feet wayside- sending my textbooks and satchel flying across the cobblestone. I looked over at him after apologizing to the two younger students, and it was the biggest mistake of my entire seventeen years. There was no way to truly explain their regal… it was otherworldly. Abraxas Malfoy stood alongside Voldemort like a proud patriarch, and he looked so much like Draco that I almost fainted with mirth. Draco and I had mended bridges before I left to this time, probably because he felt there was a huge chance I was never coming back. He also told me everything he knew about his great grandfather, which I hoped would never have to come in handy. Hyatt had a broad frame, but other than that he wasn't much to look it- and that stupid sneer he wore reminded me of a younger, evil Draco that I didn't quite prefer. They were both blonds, one more platinum than the other, while Voldemort stood between the two men looking so out of place yet right where he needed to be.

He had a head of tamed brown curls, and these sparkling dark eyes that I wanted to see more of- _damn you to hell, Hermione, _I screamed at myself. I would not allow him to draw me in, that would be a fate I was unprepared to face. I was here strictly to monitor and maintain the young boy that would soon turn maniacal- and I inferred that I was to collect Mother Riddle's necklace, before or after he turned it into a Horcruxe. According to my Headmaster's vision, a locket belonging to Voldemort would come into Dumbledore's possession and it would be his demise. Using my logic, I summed up that this locket would be the trinket Dumbledore was so interested in. And so I was here to save Dumbledore's life, because there was no hope for the Wizarding world without him. Harry would run out of luck, Ron would leave us again, the Weasleys were getting picked off one by one… I shook my head to dispel myself of those painful thoughts and balled my fists.

Hyatt was much larger than myself so physicality was out of the question, but I couldn't necessarily bring my wand out and show Riddle just what I was capable of. Some of the spells I knew didn't even exist in this time; Voldemort was so cunning and intelligent, he would notice a slipup before even I could. I shook with anger, not just due to him pushing the books out of my hand, but for the confusion and turmoil I was currently in. I was sent on a vague mission to do the nearly impossible, and to top it off I would suffer another year of insolent, insufferable bullies? At Voldemort's hand, I did _not _want to cross him. "Pick them up." Voldemort's voice sent chills down my spine, but not for the same reason they did when I was back in my time.

In my proper time, his voice was like a slithering snake- these days, he had the voice of a strong, confident man and I couldn't take that. My eyes flew to his in an instant; was he ordering me around like that? To defy him would mean certain punishment, but to succumb to his will would also mean a certain weakness revealed. I was afraid of him, but he didn't need to know that. At least not yet.

But when Hyatt Hollingway scuttled over to the fallen pieces, it suddenly dawned on me. Voldemort could _Imperio _people, without even looking at them? Perhaps he could only do that with his trusted followers- were they called Death Eaters yet? It scared me to think that he could make me do anything he wanted without even maintaining eye contact, and quite frankly I began to doubt every confidence I ever had in this mission. Hyatt returned them to my awaiting arms and even slung my book bag over my shoulder like a gentleman would. My jaw dropped unashamedly, thoroughly amazed that Hollingway would swallow his blood hunt for even a few moments. I wanted to say a small thanks in a vague manner, but the traffic began to disperse- Voldemort and his men continued their stroll, as if that hadn't just happened. I blinked a few times to bring myself back to the present and continued on my way to my last class of Wednesday, Ancient Runes.

I set my things out for the lesson in little time and started to daydream as Professor Hardeman began her boring instruction of "Rune Care & Observation" which she promised would only last two weeks. I wanted to be working hands on with these pieces and figuring out formulas, not sitting around talking about working with them. They weren't even fully aware that the first Great War was going to start right under their noses, yet we were sitting here learning about the all-great Salazar Slytherin and Rowena Ravenclaw's accomplishments. It was just too ironic for words. A petite girl with long, black hair and a small button nose turned to me with a sharp look in her eyes. "I am Penelope Parkinson." She spoke not with prejudice, but with pride and I immediately perked up at the girl sitting across from me.

I tried not to stare at her for too long, but it was difficult to see the ancestors of my former classmates. Pansy looked somewhat like her great grandmother, but Penelope was definitely more refined and poised. "Uh, hello. I'm Hermione Granger." Sure, I sounded shaken and slightly deflated compared to the perfect lady I was supposed to be portraying… but I could work on that. When would Lavinia decide the time was right and hop in? I hadn't even really seen her around school; not during mealtimes, class, teatime! It was like she didn't even exist, just a sweet myth running around the girls' mouths.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Miss Granger. I come to understand that you were sorted into the House of Slytherin? You do understand the importance of such a placement during your Seventh and final year, do you not?" I blinked at her words, not being able to gauge where she was trying to go with that. Perhaps she was just one of those overzealous, "house unity" type gals? Hell, her great granddaughter would be known as the easy shag of Slytherin!

I nodded and gnawed lightly on my lower lip. "Yes, Miss Parkinson, I do understand. It is," I choked out the next few words, "an _honor _to be placed in Slytherin." The true Gryffindor beneath the surface roared angrily, but I suppressed it for the moment. Penelope wanted to hear me elated to be a part of Salazar Slytherin's regime, and so I would. Perhaps it wouldn't be so bad to learn a few pointers from her; though I definitely needed to find the Alpha female of this House, and I had no idea who she could be. They all had this uppity feel about them, you really couldn't tell who was truly better than the other. All were rich, tied in some manner (whether closely or loosely) to Riddle or his men, and so very self-centered. The world as they knew it revolved solely around them.

"Excellent." Her toothy grin allowed a small wave of temporary relief to wash over me. Smiling was a good sign, no matter what House you belonged to. "So, you will attend the rally tonight?"

My ears perked up at her mention of a rally. Like a Death Eater one? I couldn't necessarily word it like that, but I tried my best. "A rally? I wasn't aware of any. What will it pertain to?" The words came spilling out, I was just so darn curious as to what the Slytherins thought a meeting was about.

Penelope Parkinson sent a small smirk of her own. "You are quite eager, aren't you, Miss Granger?"

I bit back a dirty insult meant for Pansy, not Penelope, so I clamped my mouth shut and tried to inconspicuously press my fist against it. Patience was key in this experience being successful, and I often prided myself in being overly-patient, but this was going to kill me. "Very eager to take part in my well-respected House's traditions, is all." I said finally, a fake smile plastered across my face. "And please, call me Hermione."

"I have a very strong feeling that you will be a great asset to the Slytherin House, Hermione." Her smirk grew larger and it made my stomach coil and twist with agony. It felt like vomit would come spewing from my mouth any second- I would puke all over her expensive things, and in front of my entire Ancient Runes class no less! The way she was speaking of me being an _asset _to them… it was sickening. "As you wished to know, the rally will revolve around House Unity. We have one every year for returning and new students. This year is very special, though." The wretched grin on her face made me sink back in my seat just an inch or two. Very special? When a Slytherin said "very special", they usually never meant it in a conventional sense.

"W-why?" I stuttered.

"Oh, don't you realize? Mr. Riddle is Head Boy this term, and he has been the chancellor of such festivities for a few years. Everyone looks up to him for guidance and fundamentals- you should as well, Hermione. Mr. Riddle has so much knowledge that he freely bestows upon us, wanting so little in return." You could see the adoration dripping from her black eyes as she spoke. When she spoke of him this way, it reminded me very much of Hitler and his devoted followers. Voldemort was said to be cunning, intelligent, charismatic, and so very manipulative. I contained a shudder as she continued to speak. "But he will be graduating this coming year, along with the rest of us seventh years- so he will be choosing a successor to pass down the gauntlet to."

If we had been in 2014 and I heard Pansy speaking this way, I would surely rush to admit her to St. Mungos for mental insanity. Passing the gauntlet? Finding a successor to give a speech? It just seemed too surreal for my current liking. "A sixth year, then?"

She shook her head slowly, as if I was being daft on purpose. "No, Hermione, why in the world would you assume that? Mr. Riddle began giving his sermon as a Fourth year- age does not measure intelligence, you must know that." Penelope looked so serious as she spoke. "We assume he will chose a young man, years beneath us."

I wrinkled my nose at the thought that perhaps a second year would be giving this almighty speech to girls and boys five years older than himself the next year. "And you agree with that? What if it's a girl, and not a boy-"

Parkinson slammed her open palm on the desk and locked eyes with me. "I will never question any of Mr. Riddle's decisions. Neither should you." I wanted to shove it in her face that I couldn't give two shits about what Riddle thought was right or wrong, but I needed her as a _frenemy _from now on. She could be an excellent outlet for information if I stayed on her good side, which wouldn't be easy if I kept opening my mouth with opinions about her precious Lord Voldemort.

We kept our eyes on one another for the duration of the period, though the intensity died down just slightly when Professor Hardeman walked by to eye our class assignment. When the bell chimed throughout to school signaling the end of class time, Penelope gathered her things quickly and flitted out of the door without a word edgewise to me.

I needed a sort of ally in her, most definitely. A part of me instinctually knew that she wasn't the Alpha- but I could bet the farm that she was best friends with the mentioned.


End file.
